Sub Plots
by GracieGryffindor
Summary: As the war rages on around the teenagers of Hogwarts an unseen plot is revealed. One of deception, control, murder, and love read between the lines of the most unlikely characters.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione opened her eyes to the dim light of early morning, and the smell of Mrs. Weasley's bacon cooking downstairs. She surreptitiously licked her lips and sat up straight to stretch out her arms. To her right she saw a pile of blankets with a chunk of blazing red hair sticking out of the mound where Ginny was curled up and sleeping. Ginny's room was so peaceful, and quiet compared to the chaos that normally reined this home. Out the window Hermione could see the large, slightly over grown lawn of the Weasley's, the morning dew still sticking to the long, green blades of grass, and watched as a garden gnome scampered under a bush, his tiny little feet wriggling from side to side as he burrowed deeper into the soil.

Hermione walked back over to her bed, and grabbed a sweater that she slipped on over her flannel nightgown, while slipping her feet into a pair of warm, fuzzy slippers. She quietly eased the doorknob to the right and slid open the door so she wouldn't wake Ginny. As she was about to shut the door, however, a large clatter came from the kitchen downstairs, and she heard the frustrated screeches of Mrs. Weasley erupt. Ginny shot up in her bed, looking dazed and petrified at the exact same time.

"What? What's wrong? Is it that sodding Ghoul again? God, I hate that thing! Always moaning and clanking the pipes!," she mumbled as the quick string of words melded together in her tired mouth.

"Nah. Something crashed in the kitchen, and your mom sounds pretty upset. I wasn't going to wake you, but I think breakfast is ready, if you wanna come down." Hermione asked as she peaked through the crack in the door. Ginny lifted her tired eyes, slowly moved her head from left, to right, and fell back into the pile of pillows on her bed with a muffled "thump".

Hermione shrugged, and made her way down the stairs to the kitchen where five mussed up heads of fiery red hair sat looking tired and ravenous at the scrubbed kitchen table, while Mrs. Weasley stood in the corner arguing with a beautiful young woman with long, silvery blonde hair, who had a defiant look on her face. Just then Ginny ambled into the kitchen behind Hermione, rubbing her eyes.

"Hermione," she said "why didn't you wake me up for breakfast? I could have missed it!"

Hermione was about to open her mouth and protest, when another shriek reverberated through the kitchen, this time from Fleur.

"I weel take eet to 'Arry! He ees my friend, and I would like to geev him breakfast!" she groaned as she wrestled with a tray of food that Mrs. Weasley held in her shorter, and considerably chubbier arms. Every head turned, however, in surprise at Fleur's words.

"Harry's here?!" Hermione shrieked, as she bolted back up the stairs, with Ron in tow. Hermione burst through the only closed door on the landing, and looked at one of her best friends, sleeping peacefully in the tiny cot, and plunked herself down on the end of the bed. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had informed the family a couple nights ago that Harry would be arriving with Dumbledore sometime this week, and Hermione and Ron had been speculating at what Dumbledore would have Harry do.

Harry mumbled to himself as he poked and prodded his night table for his glasses.

_"We didn't know you were here already!" Ron screamed as he playfully smacked Harry on the head._

_"Ron, don't hit him." Hermione said reproachfully as she smiled down at her confused best friend._

Harry explained about how he and Dumbledore had gone to convince a man named Horace Slughorn to become the new Defense Against The Dark Arts professor. Ron tried unsuccessfully to hide his look of disappointment at the less than juicy gossip. For three days he'd been jabbering on to anyone who would listen of his theory that Dumbledore would be letting Harry know deep, dark secrets pertaining to the defeat of Lord Voldemort. Hermione had a different thought on her mind, however.

She studied Harry's face for any trace of sadness, or depression after his godfather Sirius had been killed last year. He had been talking animatedly to Ron about the new professor, and said something about how he resembled a walrus when he turned and saw Hermione's scrutinizing gaze. When he asked what was wrong, she quickly put a smile on her face, avoiding Harry's question.

Ginny joined them, swinging a piece of toast that she had in her hand angrily, while complaining about Fleur's being so full of herself. Harry sat confused, as Ginny referred to Fleur as Phlegm, he had no idea who they were talking about until the very object of their conversation entered the room in all her blonde glory.

After a long and very accented conversation, while an angry Mrs. Weasley stood in the doorway watching, it was revealed to Harry about Fleur and Bill's engagement, and her current address change to the Burrow.

The next few weeks of Summer passed by fairly quickly. Hermione, Ron, and Harry all received their O.W.L.'s, Hermione receiving ten Outstandings, and one Exceeds Expectations, of course. Harry and Ron faired pretty well, too. Before they knew it, the whole family was arranging their annual trip to Diagon Alley, where a surprise lay in wait for one Hermione Granger.

***

Draco Malfoy sat at his desk, staring down at his O.W.L. results. He had achieved only Passes in subjects he didn't give a damn about, like Divination, Care Of Magical Creatures, and History Of Magic, with Exceeds Expectations in Defense Against The Dark Arts, Herbology, and Astronomy. But, he had gotten an Outstanding in Charms, Transfiguration, Potions. His parents' reactions had been calm, no more excited than usual. It wasn't an achievement for a Malfoy to get good grades, it was a requirement. Lately, Draco had been finding more and more things he hated about his life at Malfoy Manor. The constant traffic of his father's dark friends, especially his absolutely crazy Aunt Bellatrix. She was the worst of them all. Her dark, heavily hooded eyes would pierce into his as if questioning his absolute loyalty to The Cause. She was right to, he mused, because he had grown less and less loyal after that day in June. He remembered it clear as day.

_Draco stepped onto platform 9 ¾ and craned his neck in an effort to see past the billowing steam of the Hogwarts Express. There, standing arm in arm were Lucius and Narcissa, dressed in silky, billowing robes of black, looking haughty and important. His parents always greeted him after he arrived home from school with large smiles; well, as large as you could get with Lucius and Narcissa. But this year, Draco noticed something different. His mother held on to Lucius in as if in support, while Draco noticed her large, blue eyes were red around the rim and watering slightly. Draco never saw his mother cry, so it was disconcerting enough before he noticed the steely glare of his father. Lucius grabbed Draco's arm without so much as a "Hello." And dragged him out to a dark car in the parking lot of King's Cross Station. The car had emerald flags with a silver, curly M embossed in the center of a curving serpent. _

_Lucius shoved Draco into the backseat just as his mother opened the door on the opposite side so he'd be sitting in between his parents. Draco looked back from his mother, who cried silently as she looked out the window, and his father, who glared at the back of the seat in front of him. The car pulled slowly forward and drove them back to the Manor Draco loved so dearly. Inside, someone dark awaited his return._

_Draco was pushed by Lucius into their front door, and down the hallway towards the dining room they used for special occasions. When he entered, he noticed that an array of hooded figures sitting at the gleaming table, with one shadowed man at the head. Draco was sent to the opposite end of the table as his parents took their seat at what seemed miles away from him._

_Draco's grey eyes looked up into the gleaming red ones that bore into him, attempting to steady his trembling fingers. This all seemed so quick, he thought he had more time. Much more time. He was only turning 16 in the fall, and even though he projected a different opinion around the common room of Slytherin House, he was not exactly anticipating this day. Draco continued to look at Lord Voldemort's steady, red gaze._

_"Well, well, Mr. Malfoy, is that a prickle of fear I detect in your bleached head?" Voldemort said in his cold whisper. Draco shook his head slowly from left, to right, trying his best to remember what his Aunt Bellatrix had taught him of Occlumency. She may have been a crazy bitch, but she knew a thing or two about how to survive Lord Voldemort._

_"No, my Lord. I have waited for this day since before I can remember. I have dreamed of the pride I would give my family, and now that day is here." Draco lied smoothly, all the while blocking out the thoughts he had of running screaming from the evil serpent._

_Lord Vodemort sat silently at the other end of the table, quietly considering Draco's answer. He must have been satisfied, for he continued on to his next announcement. His cold voice rang out in the cavernous dining room now, no longer in a menacing whisper._

_"Well, Draco, you will be pleased to learn that not only will you become a soldier for your beloved Dark Lord, you will have a chance to prove your loyalty. For almost 16 years, now, I have had an agent at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry, feeding me information on one Albus Dumbledore, and his muggle loving ways." He said, glancing at the empty seat where Severus Snape usually sat. "But," he continued "I need something….more. Severus has gained the trust of Albus Dumbledore, and when that school is finally mine, he shall be it's leader. Now, Draco, that is where you come in. Severus has far too many duties to accomplish this task, so I delegate it to you. Draco, I wish…no, I command, that you kill Albus Dumbledore, and pave the way for The Cause to finally rule the young minds of the magical community." He finished coolly, never once raising his voice above it's normal timber, yet everyone flinched as if he had screamed his words into each one of their ears._

_Draco sat, stunned at what Lord Voldemort had just asked him to do. He, Draco Malfoy, was not even a full grown wizard, and was being asked to kill the only wizard the Voldemort had ever feared? He looked over to see his mother's watering eyes, and his father's impassive stare at the wall across from him. How could they let this happen? Why did his father have to be captured. He would face trial soon, and possibly go to Azkaban for what he did at the Department Of Mysteries. Draco knew that Lord Voldemort was angry with him, but he never dreamed of being the man's punishment. Suddenly he realized he had not yet answered the Dark Lord, and he looked back into his nightmare and nodded his head, yes. "I accept, my Lord." He said, the shake barely audible in his voice._

_"Very good, Draco." He replied. "Now, let's make this…official." An evil grin mutilated his pale and clammy face as Draco felt two dark figures move in beside him and grab his arms. The one on the left of him forcibly lifted up his left sleeve and touched his wand to the pale, soft skin of his forearm. He felt searing pain course through his veins as the figure held his wand to his arm for what seemed like a millenia. Draco faintly saw curving, dark lines forming on his skins before everything went white, and he felt no more._

Draco snapped back into consciousness, grabbing his left forearm where the searing pain was still very real. He cursed his father, and his mother for bringing this upon him. He realized now that he wanted no part in their games. He just wanted to live a quiet life, with no more fear, no more Voldemort. Slowly, that pain calmed in his arm, and he grabbed his cloak. His mother and father were taking him to Diagon Alley today, and he needed to get going.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco let out the breath he had been holding, and stepped away from his father's arm. Side-along apparition was not a pleasant feeling. He glanced around the familiar chaos of Diagon Alley, noticing a large crowd of children and their parents around one particular shop. He moved closer to see what is was. From the distance he could see the large, colorfully written letters that spelled out "Weasley Wizard Wheezes". He looked up to see his father sneering at the shop, and though it was quite loud in the Alley, he distinctly saw his mouth form the words "blood traitors". Before his mother tugged him towards Madame Malkin's to get some new robes he sighed a sigh of longing. He wished he could be there with all the other children exploring what creative gags the Weasley twins had come up with. He had never admitted it to anybody, but last year, when they set off all of those fireworks he really had admired their work. The dragon was genius.

"Draco, hurry up. Madame Malkin is expecting us!" His mother trilled shrilly into his ear. He pulled away from her and walked on his own. Suddenly, having her so close was such a pain that he didn't care to walk with her any longer. They entered the tiny shop and Madame Malkin immediately began to take his measurements as his mother watched from a small bench at the side of the room. His mother then began to search the room for robes.

"Draco, darling, I think you need some new dress robes. Your old ones are frightfully out of date." She sneered as she flicked her hand away from a clearance rack as though it was a pile of vomit. Draco rolled his eyes at his mother's snobbery, and proceeded to lift his arms as Madame Malkin took what seemed to be the hundredth measurement.

"Here we are! These are absolutely stunning, and just my Draco's color! See Draco?" his mother gasped excitedly from the front window of the shop. She held up a stunning set of dark emerald green robes. Draco eyed them curiously.

"Yes. I suppose they'll do." He conceded.

"Beautiful!" his mother exclaimed as she folded them gently on the bench beside her as she waited for Madame Malkin to finish. After what seemed like an hour, rather than only 15 minutes, Draco was standing on a slightly raised platform as Madame Malkin fitted his new robes to him. As he stood there thinking, he was concocting a plan to somehow get into the Weasley's joke shop. He'd been curious about it ever since he saw the sign, and wondered if his mother would let him go out on his own for a while.

"Mother," he began tentatively.

"Hmm?" She answered, not even looking up from her glossy copy of _Well Dressed Witch._

"Well….I was just wondering i..if maybe I could take a walk around for a while. Clear my head, you know. I've been inside the Manor for so long I need some fresh air." He finished, letting out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Draco. We're just stopping by Flourish and Blotts, and the Apothecary before we leave. No sense in holding us up for two hours while you stretch your legs. You can take a walk when we get home." She said with cold eyes.

"Mother, I am perfectly capable of going out on my own. I am not a child, you know, I won't get—OUCH! Stupid woman! Watch where you're putting that pin!," he screamed at Madame Malkin as she had begun to roll up his left sleeve where his jet black dark mark was situated between his wrist and his elbow.

Madame Malkin balked at his reaction, holding a hand to her heart as if the outburst had sent her into cardiac arrest. Draco was just about to say something to the poor woman when he glanced into the mirror and saw three familiar faces staring back at him.

Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were the last people he wanted to see at this moment, but there they stood. He put on his trademark sneer, and called them some of his favorite names. His mother joined in the fun, which made it immediately lose its appeal. He stared at Hermione. The summer had been kind to her. Her hair fell loosely all over her shoulders in gentle tendrils, only a mere hint of the frizzy ball it used to be, and her skin was lightly tanned from being outside. This cause extra little freckles to pop up all around her face. One in particular had Draco mesmerized. It was situated neither on her lip, nor on her face, in a soft limbo. He quickly hid the fact that he had been studying her improved features and teased her a little more. Harry and Ron quickly made the encounter escalate into the normal amount of threats and catcalls, until Draco had embarrassed himself, tripping over his long robes and crumpling onto the floor. Before he could get his bearings, his mother had forced him up, and was removing his new robes. By the time his eyes had refocused, the three were gone.

It took Draco over an hour to lose his mother. He waited until she was completely engrossed in the newest copy of _Witch Weekly_, which depicted some famous magical couple's messy divorce which his mother had been following for weeks. He slowly slipped towards the door and eased it open.

He breathed in the cool fresh air of the alleyway and made a beeline for Weasley Wizard Wheezes. As he rounded the corner, just in time to see the brightly colored sign that hung over the doorway and the crowd of excited children, he felt a hard hand enclose his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"Going to pay a visit to the bloodtraitors, Draco?" he heard the cold voice of his father sneer in his ear.

Draco's face fell as he realized he'd never get to see the joke shop around the corner. Lucius spun Draco around so they were walking towards the entrance of Knockturn Alley, where his father did much of his business.

"Now, I've noticed that you haven't been giving the amount of attention to your mission that it requires. Do you even have a plan?" his father asked.

"Uh…" Draco stalled, "I've just been going through a…a lot…of options." He finished lamely.

"I thought as much. Well, I have been having some discussions with Montague's father, and he told me the strange tale of Montague's extended stay in a….Vanishing Cabinet of sorts. I have seen a similar cabinet at Borgin & Burke's, and think it would be wise if you gave Borgin a little……push to fix the cabinet."Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Lucius cut him off. "Don't pretend you've got a better idea, Draco, I know that you've been spending the summer sulking in your room and feeling sorry for yourself. I will not let you get our family killed because you are an upset teenager." Lucius finished with a cold sneer. Draco stared at his Father's face, wondering how he could possibly get out of doing this.

"I have a plan, Father, and I don't need to use that cabinet, no matter what you think I've been doing all summer." He declared.

"Don't be silly. If you are trying to tell me that you've been planning all summer, at least put some effort in to your lies. If you refuse to do this one tiny little task, then I will just have to make you do it." Draco noticed the tip of his wand protruding out of his Father's sleeve, and before he could defend himself, he felt the white euphoria of the Imperious Curse. He felt the most comfortable he had been since June as he floated in the white abyss.

"_Go into Borgin & Burke's._" a pleasant voice whispered into his ear.

"Okay." He replied simply, feeling his feet float across the cobbled street. He distantly felt his hand enclose the smooth door handle. He felt his mouth form the words that his Father whispered into his mind, felt himself show Borgin his dark mark, all the while daydreaming in the comfort of having no control. As he felt his feet move once more towards the door, his Father broke the spell, for his bidding was done. Draco paused only for a moment when he realized what his Father had done, and then pushed open the door of the grungy shop. He felt his arm brush something unseen. He looked back for a moment, but saw nothing. A smell lingered in the air around him, though. It was something sweet, like pears….He mulled over the delicious smell as he walked back to his smirking Father and left Knockturn Alley to return home.

***

Hermione stood next to Ginny in the crowded joke shop, studying a box that promised instant daydreams. Fred and George had really outdone themselves for this shop, Hermione thought as she watched a new excited face enter practically every five seconds. Mrs. Weasley was wrong. The shop was brilliant. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Harry speaking with George with a frustrated look on his face. She began making a path towards Harry, and saw Ron coming up with a pile of merchandise in his arms, his face falling as Fred held out his hand, expecting payment. Hermione chuckled to herself.

When she reached the group, and had been speaking to Harry and Ron for a moment or two, their view of the street outside was clear, and they saw a nervous looking Malfoy walking past the large window.

"He's up to something." Harry declared under his breath, so only Hermione and Ron could hear his words.

"Harry, he's just walking, how is that suspicious?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know Hermione, but its Malfoy. He's never not up to something."Harry snapped back.

Hermione shrugged, and in only minutes found herself crouched under Harry's invisibility cloak with an Extendable Ear stuck between Harry, Ron and herself in front of Borgin & Burke's, a dark wizard shop in Knockturn Alley. Draco Malfoy had entered the shop before they reached it, and now they were listening to his conversation with the stooped little wizard behind the counter.

Hermione had noticed he looked taller when they had encountered him in Madame Malkin's. He must have grown over five inches over the summer, losing the boyish roundness of his face, and accentuating his lean body, and toned features. He had been his normal horrible self, calling her a mudblood, and such, but there was no harm in thinking he was good looking, was there?

Now Malfoy stood at the counter, accosting the sniveling wizard. Hermione watched with harry and Ron as Malfoy showed Borgin something on his left arm. The man nearly fell over himself with fear at the sight as he agreed to fix whatever Malfoy wanted repaired. Suddenly Malfoy was leaving the shop and Hermione had only a second to move further away from the door. As Malfoy pushed the door open, barely missing Hermione's arm, she saw something in his eyes. Like they were just waking up….It was hard to explain. Unfortunately she was so occupied with studying his gray eyes, she didn't see that his arm would feel her standing there when he passed. She pushed herself up against the window as much as possible but his arm still grazed her shoulder. She felt a shiver run down her back as his blonde hair disappeared around another corner, the tangy smell of his aftershave still lingering in her nose. Ron grabbed her hand and held it tightly, as if in comfort. Hermione squeezed back, pushing the thought out of her mind that when she shivered, it was not out of fear at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hermione sat in the Great Hall attempting to wake herself up from a bad night's sleep. It was the first morning of classes and she need to be awake when McGonagall came around to discuss N.E.W.T. classes. When the stern professor began to walk towards their end of the Gryffindor table she sat up straighter, brushing her hair back from her face in an attempt to look more awake than she really was. Professor McGonagall immediately cleared her to take N.E.W.T. level Charms, Defense Against The Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Potions. Before Harry or Ron could even get their new schedules she had ran off to her first class, Ancient Runes.

It had been a long day. After a very interesting Ancient Runes class, Hermione had proceeded to Defense Against The Dark Arts where she, Harry, and Ron had yet another uncomfortable encounter with Professor Snape. Harry had showed her and Ron his summons from Professor Dumbledore, and they used their walk to speculate about what his lessons would entail. Hermione felt practically deflated when she rounded the corner for Potions and saw the gaggle of Slytherins waiting in front of Professor Slughorn's door. She noticed Malfoy leaning against the wall a little bit apart from the rest of the sneering group. She blushed slightly as she remembered how she reacted to his slight graze of her arm in Diagon Alley. Something was certainly going on with the tall Slytherin, but she had a hard time believing it was as sinister as Harry thought. He hadn't showed up for prefect duty, which was the kind of moments he loved to use to abuse power. Hermione quietly mused over what could have happened to him over the summer, not realizing she had been staring until a pair of gray eyes looked right back into hers. She blushed and looked away right as the round figure of Professor Slughorn opened the classroom door and they began to file in.

The small group of students filed in to the room that was heavy with strange odors and thick vapors and tried to find seats. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff. As Hermione sat down she glanced into a few of the cauldrons and recognized all of the different potions that Professor Slughorn had placed around the room. After much flourish Professor Slughorn gestured towards a cauldron of potion that had a pearly-like sheen, and vapor that seemed to spiral up into the air. Hermione's hand shot immediately into the air as she explained that the potion was called Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world. It's smell was always unique to the witch or wizard who smelled it, as it was the things you most desired.

"For example, to me the potion smells like freshly mown grass, new parchment, and –" Hermione stopped just short of saying the third smell. She blushed deeply when she realized it was the same smell that had lingered in her nose in Knockturn Alley. She smiled faintly at Professor Slughorn's praise and stole a quick glance at Malfoy. He was leaning slightly towards the cauldron, attempting to sniff it surreptitiously. He had an odd look of confusion on his face. Hermione vaguely wondered what he smelled in the potion while she began taking out the ingredients for the Draught of Living Death from her bag. She vaguely registered Slughorn's instructions about Felix Felicis, but noticed that at the mention of the lucky potion, Draco's eyes no longer looked confused, but practically ravenous at the small cauldron.

***

Draco sat in the Great Hall eating lunch after his first morning of N.E.W.T. classes. He chewed his roast beef with little muster as he stared at his plate, reliving the last few days. After the stunt his father pulled in Knockturn Alley Draco had shut himself in his room until the morning of September 1st, only leaving to share awkward, silent meals with his family. The only real conversation that he had had with his Father was when Lucius whispered Draco's instructions for the year into his ear as he got on the Hogwarts Express. He was to find the Vanishing Cabinet and repair it so that Death Eaters could enter Hogwarts and assist Draco's efforts. Draco had no such plan. He figured he would write and tell his father that the cabinet was in no way fixable, and that Borgin had been wrong. He had little intention of staying at Hogwarts very long, anyway. He only planned on staying there until he could form a decent plan for escaping and going somewhere further than his Father's long arm could reach. Which wasn't far, as Lucius had been convicted that very afternoon, and sent to Azkaban Prison where he could do no more harm. Or, so he thought.

After getting off the train the night before and kicking that pain in the ass Potter in the face for eavesdropping, he ran into his two closest friends at Hogwarts, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. The stood next to each other, forming a wall between Draco and the carriages.

"Let's find a carriage, shall we?"Draco said as he attempted to push past the wall of muscle in front of him. Before he knew it he was standing on the empty platform with Goyle's large fingers squeezing his wind pipe.

"Goyle, you moron, what are you doing?"Draco wheezed.

"Your father wanted to make sure you knew that there'd be eyes watching you this year. He knows that you've been doing jack shit all summer, and wants to make sure you don't do anything you'd regret." He said in his deep voice.

"You don't even know what they want me to do! You're not supposed to know, it's a secret!" Draco whispered hoarsely, wiggling his lower-half in an attempt to escape Goyle's clutches, while Crabbe just sat there, watching the exchange.

"We know enough. Don't try anything, Malfoy. We'll be watching." Goyle finished by releasing Draco from his grip and letting his lean body crumple on the wet cement. Draco sat there for a few moments and watched as their carriage trundled up the hill towards school, taking deep breaths of the cool mountain air. After a few moments he got up and got into the last carriage that stood next to the platform, and headed up to school. This year was going to be harder than he thought.

After the feast he had a hard time falling asleep, with the two large mounds of Crabbe and Goyle that lay on either side of his bunk. He spent most of the night staring at the canopy above his head, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this. When he actually slept he had strange dreams of bright sunlight and pears, and someone else, someone as of yet faceless who made him forget all of his cares…..

Now Draco walked towards his afternoon class. He had Potions next, and needed to leave early so he wouldn't get lost. The class wasn't in the dungeons as it regularly was, because Professor Snape no longer taught his favorite subject. The hits just kept on coming.

He rounded the corner and saw a familiar group of Slytherins that included Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini and proceeded to walk towards them. In a few moments a group of Ravenclaws had gathered, along with an extremely chipper Ernie Macmillan, and eventually Potter, Weasley, and Granger. Harry was tucking a scroll into the pocket of his robes, while the three seemed to be in deep conversation about something. He watched as Hermione slowed to a stop, still looking like she was thinking hard about something, and once again appreciated her newfound prettiness. He leaned his head against the wall and thought about that scent of pears he had dreamt about last night. Whatever it had been, it made him feel like it was a good dream, but he couldn't explain why.

When he came out of his reverie, he saw that Granger's chocolate brown eyes were starting at none other than himself. She blushed and quickly attempted to hide the fact, but it was too late, he had seen her. Just then Professor Slughorn opened the classroom door and they filed in. He smiled subtly to himself as he thought that maybe he wasn't the only one who appreciated a few changes over the summer. He had grown much taller over the summer, which he noticed pronounced his Quidditch muscles quite nicely. He followed the small group of students into the hazy looking classroom, weaving through the many bubbling cauldrons, and took a seat in the far corner with Nott, Zabini, and Parkinson. He sat next to Nott so he didn't have to deal with Pansy. He was a little tired, and didn't think he had the energy.

Professor Slughorn droned on and on until he finally started naming some of the strange potions that sat around the room. Granger knew all of them, of course. He watched as she announced that her favorite smells were grass, parchment, and obviously something to embarrassing to say in public. The same rosy pink color tinted her cheeks, as it had done in the hallway as she looked intently at her blank parchment in front of her. Draco leaned forward slightly, all the while attempting to conceal the fact that he was interested in the love potion. He sniffed the air in shallow, quiet breaths and smelled Broomstick oil, a smell he could only describe as books, and that same smell of pears. He frowned slightly, breathing deeper in an attempt to really get a whiff of the strange smell that now haunted his thoughts.

Professor Slughorn was speaking again, something about a luck potion. His thoughts went into overdrive as he imagined the possibilities. He could use it to escape, to finally be free of this mess he called a life. If he only brewed a good enough potion he would have the answer in his hands. Immediately he set to work, pulling out his ingredients faster than any of the other Slytherins at his table. For an hour and a half he slaved over a steaming cauldron, fighting back tears of frustration as he tried to brew a perfect Draught Of Living Death. His face began to sweat as he glanced over at Granger, and saw her give a frustrated glance to Potter, who seemed absolutely calm as his potion turned the correct shade of black.

Professor Slughorn beckoned their attention, and declared Potter the winner of the contest, after merely scoffing at Draco's sad attempt at the difficult potion. He brushed down his frizzy clumps of hair, and slammed his book back into his bag. Letting go of any hope he had to get out of this dilemma. He reached the classroom door just Granger passed by and smelled it again. The mix of pears and something else…..soap? In horror, he saw that Granger had just passed under his nose, looking determined to keep her eyes straight ahead, staring at a space of wall in the hallway ahead. Draco paused……No, he thought. It couldn't be G—NO!


	4. Chapter 4

Draco traced a line down Hermione's soft, rosy cheek with his pale finger. He watched as her eyes closed, and noticed her beautiful eyelashes, and the dainty freckles that adorned her face. His hand continued to her hair, brushing back the soft curls. He inspected the nape of her neck and the soft, small hairs that grew there. He pressed his lips lightly to the pale skin under her ear, slowly moving towards her mouth. When he reached her face he pulled back for a moment to see her rosy lips slightly parted, waiting for him to finally kiss her. With a small smile he leaned forward, his lips barely a centimeter from hers—

And that's where the dream always ended. Draco lay back in his bunk, his mouth tingling, feeling let down. For three weeks, ever since that first potions class, he'd been having this dream. The details varied, like where they were, or what she wore, but it was always the same activity. But, he never did get to kiss her. He was torn between feelings disappointed in the ending, and disgusted with himself for having such a fantasy. What would his friends say if they knew? Better yet, what would his father say?

He could just imagine the exact sneer that Lucius would wear if he even got a whiff of Draco's subconscious desires. Or would he live to see the sneer….Maybe he'd just see a bright green light and he'd be free of this horrible year.

Besides the occasional daydream about Hermione, Draco spent most days attempting to plan his escape from Hogwarts. He never got far, because Crabbe and Goyle never let him alone besides when he bathed and went to the restroom. They always looked at him, threatening the consequences of Draco's disloyalty with only silence and meaningful looks. But, past running like a maniac and apparating outside the school gates to a predetermined location, he had nothing. So, he sat. He sat next to the two boys that appeared to be his best friends, and ate, basking in the slants of dim autumn light that filtered into the Great hall as they all ate breakfast that Saturday morning. He sat, and accepted that he had no hope. But he was wrong.

***

Across the Great hall, Hermione sat in between Harry and Ron. They were discussing what to do about Hagrid, who had been noticeably cold with them since none of them took Care Of Magical Creatures at a N.E.W.T. level. It didn't help that they hadn't had time to visit him, either. They settled on a plan to pop over to his hut for lunch after Quidditch try-outs that morning.

Hermione sat down her fork, and wiped her mouth with her napkin as Harry and Ron began to head down to the Quidditch pitch with what seemed to be most of the Gryffindor House. She glanced up and saw Malfoy, sitting in between Crabbe and Goyle, looking very, very…..sad. She had never seen that emotion pass over his pale, and pointed features, and it distracted her so much that she walked straight into Ron.

"Oi, Hermione! Watch where you're going!" He snapped.

"Relax, Ron. Just because you're nervous about try-outs doesn't mean you have to be a git to the whole world!" she yelled back.

Her thoughts then returned to Malfoy. She felt a sudden urge to give him a comforting hug, which she immediately credited to the odd dreams she'd been having about him lately. She blushed as she remembered how happy she had been when she woke up this morning, but slightly crushed when she realized his kisses weren't real.

That night, after Ron had stormed upstairs because he didn't get invited to Professor Slughorn's stupid party, Hermione left the common room to do her prefect rounds. She loved the school at night, especially when she wasn't breaking the rules with Harry. The halls were so quiet you could hear the tiniest inhabitants of the school scurrying about in the shadows. Hermione was admiring the view of the frosted grounds of the school as she passed by an open window when she heard an enormous amount of racket coming from around the corner. She ran up ahead to see a robed figure crouching on the ground, attempting to block the erasers being pelted at them by Peeves, coughing violently in a cloud of dust. The tiny poltergeist cackled as his victim shot useless spells helplessly below.

"Peeves! Stop that this instant! I swear I will report you to the Bloody Baron if you keep this up!" Hermione threatened.

Peeves froze where he was, straightened up, and began to zoom away.

"No need to tell the Bloody Baron, Peeves will stop. There's no need for that, no, no need at all!" He protested as he whooshed around the far corner of the hallway. Hermione turned her attention to Peeves' victim who leaned angrily on the wall next to her, breathing heavily with his face against his arm. She gently grabbed his shoulder saying, "It's alright. He's gone. He's a right pain in the ar--." She stopped immediately when the gray eyes of Draco Malfoy turned towards hers. Stepping quickly away from him, she guarded herself for the newest slew of insults from the pureblood jackass.

"I'm s..sorry. I didn't see that it was you. I'll go now." She said while she began to walk back to where she had been patrolling earlier.

"It's okay. You don't have to go." She heard a soft voice whisper behind her. Had she imagined it? She turned and saw the desperate look in Malfoy's face. He had said it, it hadn't been her imagination.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"I was just s-saying that you don't have to go if you don't w-want….to…." he trailed off quietly, now looking at his feet with a look of embarrassment. Before Hermione really thought it through, she heard her response.

"Ok." She breathed quietly as Malfoy's eyes shot up and pierced hers. Her breath caught when she saw the faint smile that played on his lips.

***

Draco walked the silent halls of Hogwarts, replaying memories in his head when he used to feel that he owned the school. Back when Crabbe and Goyle had been his friends, not his enemies. He missed the feeling of absolute rightness he used to have. He was right, no ifs, ands, or buts. His father was his hero, his lifestyle what he emulated. Oh, how things change, he mused. His world had become a shaky, blurred gray area that he had no idea how to rectify. Now when he patrolled the halls at night he had different thoughts, of one Hermione Granger, to be exact. He could feel himself gravitating towards her every day. In the classes they shared together, or every time he passed her in the hall and her scent enveloped his senses. He felt the gradual change come over him. He no longer emulated his father's lifestyle, and he hated the position he was in. The worst was he had no one to talk to.

Most of his daydreams involved not only being with Hermione, but telling her his secrets. Of course, instead of being disgusted and shocked like he knew she would be in real life, she always wrapped her arms around him, helping let go of his shame and guilt. Sometimes it surprised him how fast he had come to having feelings for the Gryffindor. He wondered why he had latched on to the idea of her do readily when she probably considered him the past person in the world to like in that way. He couldn't blame her, really. He had been horrible to her, and his father wanted her dead more than any other muggleborn he knew of.

Draco's thoughts continued to drift in between reality and fantasy as he walked slowly down the darkened corridors. He was pulled instantly from his musings when a dusty eraser hit him square in the face. He swore loudly and looked into the grinning face of Peeves. He raised his wand to blast the pain in the ass poltergeist away but found the little cretin was too fast for him. He found himself surrounded by a cloud of white dust as he shot defensive spells every direction possible in an attempt to hit Peeves. His breath as white powder invaded his lungs, and he started coughing violently, still half-heartedly casting spells.

He distantly heard someone screaming through his coughs, and then the dust began to clear, and Peeves flew away. He leaned up against the wall with his face nestled in the crook of his arm, while he breathed heavily in an attempt to regain his composure. Suddenly a warm hand cupped his shoulder, and he heard a quiet, steady voice say, "It's alright. He's gone." He recognized that voice immediately, so he looked up into the face of Hermione Granger. She stopped in the middle of whatever she had been saying, staring in horror at Draco's face. He looked down as her hand left his shoulder as she snapped it back to herself, as if she feared he would hex it off if she acted too slowly.

He straightened as she mumbled something about leaving him alone and began to walk away from her. He panicked. He had thought, even if it was only for a millisecond, that this was his chance. His chance to prove he'd changed. Because, he certainly couldn't do it with Crabbe and Goyle around. He glanced helplessly back and forth trying to find something to grab her attention back, and he felt himself spit out, "It's okay, you don't have to go."

He watched as her small figure paused, and then turned around suspiciously. Her features seemed to soften when she actually looked him in the eye, and saw what Draco hoped was the sincerity he felt. She asked him to repeat himself, which he did, stumbling over a few of his words in embarrassment at his outburst. He looked at his shoes, afraid to see the anger and rejection that would surely be in her face. This was the perfect chance for her to avenge his years of torment that he brought down upon her, and he braced himself for the storm. But, to his surprise, he heard her soft voice, barely audible, say, "Okay." He tried to contain the sheer amount of joy he felt at that tiny little word, but still felt a small smile curve his lips upward.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione stood there staring at the blonde boy. He looked nervous. Once they got past the whole "you can stay" thing neither of them had really thought of anything more to say. They both stood switching their weight from foot to foot, and glancing covertly at one another.

"So…."Hermione said, not knowing what to say next. She thought she may have made it worse, though, because Draco's face snapped up, looking elated that she had broken the silence. Hermione didn't know what to say, so she just blurted out, "O.W.L.s! How did you do on your O.W.L.s?"

She buried her face in her hands when she realized that she had just screamed at Draco Malfoy in an attempt to make civilized conversation. She felt her face grow extremely hot in her hands, and she cringed at her embarrassing behavior, until she heard a soft chuckle.

Malfoy's face was turned up in a crooked grin and replied, "I uh…I scraped by. I got O's in Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions, but E's in Defense Against The Dark Arts, Herbology, and Astronomy." He finished. The easy humor on his face took Hermione by surprise.

"What about History Of Magic, and Care Of Magical Creatures?" she asked, curious at why he had left them out.

"Oh..I..I uh, only got P's in those. And Divination, as well. You forgot to ask about that." He replied awkwardly.

"Oh, I don't think Divination counts as a class. Professor Trelawney is such a fraud I couldn't stand being around her. That's why I took Arithmancy."

"That was probably smart. So, what'd you get?" he asked.

"Oh. Just ten O's, and an E in Defense Against The Dark Arts." She said while scratching the back of her head and avoiding eye contact. When she looked up he was just smiling slightly, nodding in compliment at her grades. After they both said their grades, they were engulfed in awkward silence once more.

"That doesn't surprise me. I think I saw your face maybe 1/3 of our time at Hogwarts. The rest you had it in a book."

Hermione blushed and looked at her feet. She wasn't sure if it was an insult or a compliment.

"I should talk, though. I have to admit, I love to read." He added awkwardly.

Hermione snapped her head up, and with a wide smile asked, "Really? What's your favorite book?"

"Um, it's embarrassing."

"Come on. I'm the bookworm. Tell me!"

"Fine, fine. My favorite book is actually Hogwarts; A History. I really think it's interesting." Now it was his turn to stare at his feet. Finally he looked up. Hermione was staring at him with a huge smile, and she started to laugh. She couldn't help it. It was the situation. It just dawned on her how ridiculous it all was. She, Hermione Granger, was standing in a darkened corridor with Draco Malfoy as they discussed grades and their favorite books. The more she thought about it the more hilarious it seemed, and before she knew it she was doubled up and laughing so hard she was crying.

"What? What'd I say?" he asked her in a desperate sort of voice.

"No..nothing." she gasped. "It's just…you…and, and me…talking together! And…Hogwarts; A History..hahaha….is my favorite…my favorite book too!" she wheezed in between peels of laughter. Draco began to laugh too. Not quite as hard as Hermione, but certainly more than he'd laughed in a long time. After a few minutes they regained their composure, and she wiped her eyes of their tears.

"Sorry about that. It just struck me as so, I don't know, ridiculous that this is happening right now, you know." she laughed softly. She looked up to see him smiling again, all the sadness she'd seen in his eyes before was gone, nowhere to be seen.

***

Draco felt so unlike himself. For the last two hours he'd been walking the halls of Hogwarts with Hermione Granger, and instead of feeling the disgust and outrage he would have felt not even 6 months ago, he just felt content. Once they'd gotten past the awkwardness of the first ten minutes they'd relaxed a little. He finally got to talk to someone about books. He'd hidden the fact that he loved to read even from his Father. Once he saw that it was socially unacceptable to be a bookworm he had kind of hid it from his social circle. He usually stayed up late with the curtains closed around his bunk reading by wand light.

As they walked through the moonlit corridors, their quiet laughter bouncing off the stone walls, he took the opportunity of conversation to look at her for real. Not a glance or a fleeting stare, but to actually look. He watched the lines form in her skin when she smiled, and her dark eyebrows when they knitted together as she frowned. He especially liked her eyes. They were so dark and rich with color that he thought he could see more life in them then anyone he'd ever met. He saw that she blushed whenever he looked at her for extended periods of time, so he tried to glance around occasionally to give her a break, even though he felt like he could look at her for days on end.

As the time approached for the end of their rounds they made their way to the entrance of the Great Hall where they would part ways. They each ambled to the center, shuffling their feet, not knowing what to say to one another all of the sudden.

"Well," Draco said looking straight at Hermione. "this has certainly been interesting. I really enjoyed talking to you."

"Same here," she said with a small smile.

With that, they both nodded and turned towards they're common rooms, Hermione up the stairs, and Draco down. Draco walked only a few steps, though, before he turned around again.

"Hermione!" he called in a loud whisper as she turned to face him again.

"Yes?"

"I…I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I ever did to you. I hope you know that I'm telling the truth, because I think, even if we can't be friends, maybe we could be civil." He ended his apology like a question, hoping for some reassurance on her end. She just smiled, looked down for a moment, and then back up to look him in his eyes.

"I can't pretend that the last 5 years didn't happen. I'm not saying you're not different, just that it might take a little longer for me to get used to you. And yes," she said when his head dropped in sadness. "I think we might be able to be friends." She grinned and hopped up the stairs, not noticing the big grin that spread across Draco's face, as he walked down to the dungeons with a slight hop to his step.

***

Hermione closed the portrait hole quietly, and leaned back in the dark of the common room. The only light came from the almost dead pile of glowing embers in the fireplace. She sighed quietly and thought about her evening as she slowly leaned up and made her way to the staircase. Her face blushed crimson as she finally admitted it to herself. She had a crush.


	6. Chapter 6

Over the next few weeks Draco and Hermione began to meet regularly in the dark corridors for a few short hours of conversation. They talked about books, music, school, and even friends. Mostly Hermione spoke about friends, and awkwardly at that.

"Harry's…..lonely. I don't know if that makes sense. I always felt like he lived so much of his life alone that he still finds it hard to let other people help him." At that Draco snorted quietly to himself, avoiding eye contact with Hermione.

"Yeah, right. Potter just wants all the attention to himself. He doesn't like to share the credit." He sneered. Even as his mouth was forming the words he heard the hurt in his voice. When he ventured to look at Hermione through his peripheral vision he saw her cheeks were flushed and her face hard. He had definitely offended her.

"You don't even know him! You don't know what he's been through! He's lost so much and if he doesn't let us help him more he's going to die. Do you think he wants that? Do you think _I _want that? You have judged him from day one without ever knowing that Harry doesn't _want _to do this. He _has _to do this. And all you do is make him feel like he's being a prat for wanting to get this done without any of the people he loves getting hurt!" She finished, her yells bouncing off the walls while she breathed hard.

"Oh, and I'm the only one who has spent the last 5 years judging people? You don't know what I've been through either and that has never stopped you from assuming that I'm a slimy little weasel, does it? Admit it! You are just as bad as me, but because I don't suffer quietly, I'm the bad guy!" he screamed back into her shocked face.

"But you were! You took every opportunity available to make all three of our lives a living hell! You're acting like you're words did nothing, but they hurt! We all kept a brave face because that's what we do, but you have no idea how much pain you caused. "

"I told you I was sorry! I regret it all now. Isn't that enough? Have these past few weeks meant nothing?"

"What happened to you?" she asked quite suddenly, shocking him out of his anger. She looked into his eyes with curiosity, tilting her head slightly to the left in a way that reminded him of a small child.

"I—what?" he responded, flummoxed by her sudden whisper. She looked into his eyes with curiosity, tilting her head slightly to the left in a way that reminded him of a small child.

"I said, what happened to you? I've been wondering all of this time what could have possibly happened to the boy who used to hate me to make him suddenly so….different." she finished.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?"

"Because, I don't want to tell you."

"Will you ever tell me?"

At that last question Draco paused for a moment. He was torn between anger at her asking the one question he dreaded, and happy that she still intended to talk to him in the future. _Would_ he ever tell her? For the last weeks he had had fantasies of telling Hermione everything. He felt embarrassed at the thought, but he wanted her to know everything, to share his burden. He had never felt like that with anybody before and it scared him. He had always been content to keep his secrets to himself, never letting anyone in close enough to see the true him. Now the opportunity was staring him straight in the face. Hermione still had her steady gaze locked on his, her brow slightly knitted. He breathed in and out to gain his composure, intending to eventually use one of them to tell her everything. He gasped in for air and saw her eyes widen a little, as if she was going to get an answer, but instead of filling his mouth with words, he let the breath out again and simply said,

"Maybe later."

With that, he turned forward again and began to walk slowly towards the entrance hall where they were about to part ways once again. He could feel her disappointment radiating off of her, though she kept her face impassive. When they reached the entrance hall he faced her once more. He hated that he hadn't just told her right there, but they had been so content the last couple of weeks and he didn't want the reality that faced him during the daylight to ruin his nights with her. He looked into her chocolate brown eyes and took her little hand in his. He saw her body grow suddenly tense, but he ignored it. He simply held her hand in his, feeling the warm, softness of it.

"I'm sorry. But it's more complicated than you could possibly imagine." He said softly, still looking at her hand. Only when he had finished did he look at her again to find the anger and disappointment gone. She simply smiled softly and said,

"I'm more creative than you think." With that, she turned towards the staircase, pulling her hand from his. Draco just stood and watched her walk away, his hand still outstretched, and his fingers tingling with the warmth she had left behind.

***

Hermione awoke that Saturday morning with a headache. She had slept poorly because most of the night had been spent curled up in the sitting position in her bunk considering everything that may have happened to Draco over the summer. She rubbed her temples and opened her curtains to see that everyone had already left for breakfast. Today was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year and everyone was excited. She slowly arose from her bed, picking up her toothbrush and putting on her sweater as she headed towards the bathroom.

After brushing her teeth and pulling her hair into a messy bun she ambled back into her dorm to find a beautiful tawny owl sitting on her bed holding a small envelope in its beak. She approached it and took the letter while petting its foliage. Her name was written in careful script on the front of the envelope, but she didn't recognize it. She removed the letter slowly and saw that it only had a few short sentences scribbled on it in the same handwriting.

_Hermione—_

_Meet me after you get back by the Room of Requirement and I'll tell you everything I can._

_Draco._

She read and reread the short note about ten times before it sunk in that she was going to finally hear what was going on with Draco. She leaned over to her nightstand and pulled out a small piece of scratch parchment she had left in there and a quill, scribbling back a quick yes to his note. Once the tawny owl had flown back out of the open window in the dorm towards the Great Hall she returned to readying herself for the day, with slightly more vigor than before.

When she finally entered the Great Hall most of the upperclassmen had left for the small village already except for harry and Ron who looked at her impatiently.

"Jeez, Hermione, what took you so long?" Ron asked annoyed.

"Sorry. I didn't get that much sleep last night, and I slept in a little later than I intended." she said as she glanced for a split-second at the Slytherin table. Draco sat between Crabbe and Goyle looking as miserable as ever, but he glanced up at her when he felt her gaze and she saw his eyes light up once more.

She was soon distracted, however, by Ron's story of harry using yet another mysterious spell from that damn potions book of his. He didn't even know what the spell did? What if it had hurt Ron? Harry and Ron's eyes practically rolled out of their heads during Hermione's five minute rant until she finally calmed down. They were about to head down to Hogsmeade when Ginny ambled up and gave Harry notification of his next lesson with Dumbledore. Hermione watched the frown form on Harry's face when Ginny jogged back over to Dean in the entryway. Seems she wasn't the only one with a secret crush. She smiled slightly as they walked out the front doors into the frosty grounds, down the pathway to the tiny village.

As the three teenagers sat in the Three Broomsticks sipping their butterbeer they let small sighs escape their mouths. It had not been a fun trip. Excepting the small amount of joy they got from buying sugary treats at Honeydukes the trip had been a bust. What with the unfortunate run-ins with both Professor Slughorn, who effectively ignored Ron, again, and catching Mundungus Fletcher as he attempted to make away with a slew of Sirius' old possessions they were all ready to be back in the warm castle.

As they walked up to the castle they saw Katie Bell arguing with her friend Leanne as they seemed to wrestle over a small package. In only a few minutes Katie had flown up in the air, Harry had discovered the cursed necklace from Borgin & Burke's, and they were rushing Katie's limp body up to the castle to Professor McGonagall. Hermione sat and listened to Harry attempt to pin the crime on Draco and tried to quell the anger that was growing fast within her. She and Ron sat back and glanced at each other every once in a while as Harry made himself look like more and more of a prat.

After being dismissed in rather clipped tones by Professor McGonagall they all headed up to the common room to the warm fire and armchairs. It wasn't until later, after Harry and Ron began an essay for Snape that Hermione had already finished that she remembered about Draco waiting for her at the Room Of Requirement. She carefully raised herself from the armchair she had been curled up in and mumbled something about the library to Harry and Ron who barely looked up at her. She slipped out of the portrait hole and made her way up to the 7th floor corridor where a seemingly blank stretch of wall stood.

When she rounded the corner she saw a dark, hooded figure crouching against the wall where the room of requirement was located. She could see a tuft of white-blonde hair sticking out of the rim and approached Draco smiling. She reached out her hand to touch his shoulder, but Draco twitched and snapped his head up with a look of fear on his face that only softened slightly at the sight of her.

"Draco, what's wrong?" she asked as she crouched down to look into his eyes.

Draco shook as he held his kneecaps and stared at one spot on the floor in front of him. Slowly he looked into Hermione's eyes.

"I…I did it." He said, his voice shaking horribly.

"Did what? I'm confused."

"I gave Katie the necklace."


	7. Chapter 7

"I gave the necklace to Katie." He said, looking away from Hermione again. He hadn't imagined the day ending like this, it had started so well. Well, as well as it could in Draco's current circumstances.

That morning Draco had awoken in the dim, overcast sunlight of the late autumn morning with a smile on his face. He'd had another dream about Hermione. He sat up and stretched the sleepiness out of his muscles and stood up and began to get dressed. He had formed a plan last night before he had fallen asleep of how to deal with Hermione. He opened the door to his dorm as quietly as he possibly could and made his way through the dark common room towards the blanks stretch of stone wall that lead to the hallway. Once out he made his way silently to the Owlery.

He lured his tawny owl down from the rafters and tied the note he had written the night before to its foot and watched it fly off toward a tower. He quickly walked towards the stairs and headed towards the Great Hall to eat breakfast before he attended detention with Professor McGonagall for not doing his homework again. He had been disregarding his schoolwork with the growing fear of avoiding his "mission".

As he walked into the Great Hall he saw the empty seat between Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table. He attempted to hide his cringe at his growing hate for his two former best friends. "Best friends" was actually a loose term, but they were the two people he was closest to at the large castle. He took a seat between their bulky muscles and began filling his plate without a word, ignoring the fact that both Crabbe and Goyle had set down their silverware and began watching him intently.

"Where were you this morning?"Crabbe asked in a gruff voice.

"None of your business." He snapped.

Goyle grabbed his arm under the table and squeezed menacingly.

"I think it is my business." He whispered into his ear, "Because if you don't get your ass moving, you're going to regret it. Deeply."

Draco nodded almost imperceptibly and began to chew his bacon. About ten minutes later the Great Hall had emptied considerably as everyone had either headed back to their common rooms or began the cold trek down to Hogsmeade. Draco saw movement in the corner of his eye and heard the Weasel's annoyed squeal drift over to the Slytherin table. He felt someone's eyes on his and glanced up to find himself looking straight at Hermione's face. He smiled slightly as he saw the blush that spread into her cheeks. He glanced at her occasionally until she had left the Great Hall with Potter and Weasley to walk down to Hogsmeade.

He let out an imperceptible sigh and gathered his things for his detention with McGonagall. Goyle grabbed his robes and looked at him questioningly.

"I've got detention, Goyle. Am I allowed doing that by myself?" he asked, annoyed at Goyle's watchful eye. He merely nodded and went back to his breakfast.

Draco spent the whole morning cleaning the Transfiguration classroom without the use of magic. By the end of it he was sore in places he didn't know existed and just wanted to take a long shower before he met up with Hermione at the Room of Requirement.

As he walked the deserted halls down to the common room located in the dungeons he began to get an eerie feeling that he was being watched. He stopped in the middle of the hallway and looked behind him and saw no one. He shrugged his shoulders, chastising himself for being so paranoid when all of the sudden he saw black robes spin out in front of him from a nook in the wall and felt the same pleasant floating feeling he had experienced only a couple months ago in Diagon Alley.

Draco found himself standing outside the Slytherin common room almost an hour after he remembered leaving Professor McGonagall's classroom. His head felt hazy and confused as he murmured the password and slid into the thin doorway.

After a steaming shower Draco wrapped a deep green towel around his waist and walked back to his dorm. He slipped on a clean white shirt with a black sweater and a pair of jeans and checked his watch. It was almost three o'clock; Hermione might be back by now. He hustled out of the common room and ran towards the seventh floor corridor. When he made it up to the entrance hall he heard tense voices emanating from the oak front doors. He stopped and began to listen as Professor McGonagall spoke about him. She was telling someone about him being in detention all day with her, so he couldn't have possibly done it. Done what? He wondered to himself. He turned his attention back to the conversation when he heard Potter's voice claim vehemently that he, Draco, must have found a way to give Katie Bell a cursed necklace.

Draco's face went clammy. A hazy memory was resurfacing and he saw Madame Rosmerta, and he remembered handing her a package of some sort. As quickly as it had come it had gone away again, but now he was worried. Had he had something to do with it? He surely couldn't account for an hour of his day and was still confused as to why it had taken him so long to walk to his common room….His hands began to sweat as his mind tried desperately to cling to any memory in the last hour and a half. He hear professor McGonagall dismiss the three students and peeked around the corner to see an empty entrance way. He made his way slowly up the staircase to the seventh floor and sat, waiting for Hermione to get there. As he crouched down and went over his afternoon again and again in his head pieces started to fall together. He remembered being ambushed in the hall, he remembered walking through a dark, cold tunnel, and most importantly, he remembered sneaking into the back of the Three Broomsticks. All were fleeting memories, but they still put him at the scene of the crime. He began to shake as the enormity of what he had just realized hit him over the head. He was so invested in his thoughts that he hadn't even heard the footsteps approaching him in the hallway. He was startled by the feel of someone touching his shoulder and he jumped, but calmed a little when he saw Hermione's face.

"What?" Hermione asked a full minute later, looking stunned.

"I think I gave Katie the necklace." He replied.

"Draco, you don't think, you know."

"But I don't! I don't know!" He released a frustrated huff of air, got up, and began pacing in front of the blank stretch of wall. A big black door appeared and he held the door open for Hermione to enter. She stood there, looking at him for a few moments and then silently walked past him through the door.

Hermione heard the door close behind her and tore her eyes from the magnificent room Draco had created. The room was circular, the walls painted a deep scarlet, yet the honey-colored hardwood floors were covered in an intricately woven emerald area rug. There was a large couch and some chairs that were interspersed throughout the room that cast long shadows because the only light came from a large fire at the opposite end of the room. When she looked at Draco, however, her wonder was gone, and the only question she had was etched on her face.

"Hermione, I brought you here to tell you why I changed over the summer. If you wouldn't mind, I think I have to tell you that before I tell you anything about what I think happened today." He paused and waited for her silent nod before continuing.

"Last June, after Father was captured at the Department of Mysteries, there was an interim before he went to trial. He was there to meet me off the Hogwarts Express with my mother. They were both very embarrassed about what had transpired that much I could gather, but both seemed to be taking out an awful lot on me. When I got in the car at the station to go home Mother was crying and Father refused to look at me. I was very confused until I got home and saw….V-Vol—Voldemort sitting at our dining room table." He paused at Hermione's quiet gasped, but continued on without letting her interrupt him. "It very quickly became clear that my parents had sent me in to see him in order for me to become a Death Eater, whether I wanted to or not. After that I found that I didn't see the appeal of the Dark Arts that I once had. What I once admired in my parents I now despise. I thought long and hard over the summer, and I decided that I wanted nothing to do with it anymore. But, it came at a price." Hermione looked confused. "When V-Voldemort came to our home that afternoon he gave me an assignment….I couldn't refuse or I would have been killed. You have to understand I have no intention of ever going through with this mission, even though I agreed."

"What's the assignment, Draco?" Hermione interrupted quietly, looking deep into his eyes.

"As punishment for my Father's mistakes, I was given an assignment that Voldemort knew would kill me…..He wants me to kill Dumbledore."

Hermione sat in silence at what Draco had just revealed. Kill Dumbledore? How did they think he could do that? But other things nagged at Hermione's thoughts.

"What does that have to do with the necklace?"

"Well, since I have no desire to actually accomplish his mission, my Father has been…controlling me since the beginning of the school year. He sent me into Knockturn Alley, and I went into Borgin and Burke's, but I don't know what for, it's all very hazy. He's had Crabbe and Goyle on my case all year so they make sure I get it done. I think I know what happened with the necklace. I think someone ambushed me in the hall, probably Crabbe or Goyle, and I was Imperiused once again. I can't really remember an hour of this afternoon and I keep getting flashes of memory that I can't place. Hermione, I—I don't know what to do. I don't know what I _might_ do! Ever since last summer my life seems to be spiraling downwards. I see no way out, I have no hope of escaping. What do I—what do I d-do?" he quickly dissolved into frustrated sobs. He pulled at clumps of his once neat hair and turned away from Hermione.

She wiped the tears that had welled in her eyes and grabbed Draco, turning him back to her. When she looked at him she saw everything. The fear, the sorrow, but mostly the loneliness. He had bore all of this pain and hopelessness by himself for over five months with no one to comfort him, no one to reassure him. Hermione saw the scared little boy in his eyes and she quickly wrapped her arms around his tall body in her small one. He was shivering so she stroked his back and leaned her face onto his chest. Slowly, she felt his head lower to her shoulder, and his body relax in her grip.

They stood for what seemed like hours in each other's embraces or what could have very well have been minutes. For years Draco had lived in a shadow, with parents who didn't do physical affection. He finally admitted to himself how lonely he had become in the last few years. He longed for someone to hold him just as Hermione was doing, without an inch of selfishness. He leaned into her warm little frame and felt everything he'd ever missed out on. A small tear escaped his eye and slid on to her shoulder when he realized just how in love with her he was, and how, for once, someone cared for him, and only him.

Slowly, the couple parted their torsos from one another but kept their arms around the other's waist. Draco's face was so close to Hermione's that he could count every tiny freckle that dotted her perfect cheeks. Her eyes were wide as they looked into his and he felt the pull. He wanted to kiss her like he'd dreamt, like he'd longed to ever since she first smiled at him. He lowered his lips towards hers and saw her eyes darken right before her lids closed over them, and slowly pressed his lips to hers. His hand cupped the back of her head and tangled in and amongst her curls as their kiss became more desperate. Where his palm rested on her neck he could feel her gentle pulse become faster, harder. Her smell engulfed his senses and he became dizzy. They parted, both short of breath.

Hermione felt her head lighten as his lips left hers. His tangy aftershave was still in her nose and her lips still puckered into the thin air where Draco had just been standing. He gazed at her and neither of them spoke for minutes. The light from the fire made everything in the room seem to move excepting the boy and girl who stood in the middle of the room. They stared at each other as their breath calmed and their hearts beat at a normal pace once more. Draco took her hand in his and played with her fingers for a while before he said,

"A few months ago my life was destined for darkness, for death. I had no hope. Hermione, for once in my sorry little life I have confidence in something. You're my hope. I…..I love you, Hermione."

Hermione's breath hitched at his words. Her enemy, her nemesis for five years had fallen in love with her. What were more surprising were her next words.

"I love you too, Draco."

A broad smile broke out over his pale face and they kissed once more by the firelight.

"I have to go before people wonder where I am."Hermione said reluctantly as she pulled her lips from his.

"Stay." He pleaded quietly, his face desperate.

"Ok." She answered. He smiled and they embraced once more.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione sat in the Great Hall stirring her porridge, occasionally raising a huge spoonful from the depths of the bowl and slowly watching the gooey mass drip back into the chunky breakfast. Her mind wasn't on breakfast at all. She glanced out from under her eyelids every few moments or so to the boy that sat at the other end of the Great Hall. The crowds parted for only a moment and there were no bodies blocking her view. She ventured her head higher to stare at him full on and saw that his eyes were already on her. A buzz filled her ears and the great Hall melted all around her, and heat crept up her neck and into her face. He didn't even blink, just stared at her with his piercing gray eyes. Her breath became heavy and her heart began to beat rapidly in her chest when a fourth year next to her dropped her entire plate of food on the stone floor, bringing Hermione back to reality with a clatter of metal on stone. She jumped up in her seat and looked around for the source of the noise that had ruined her morning. She took a few shallow breaths and smoothed her hair as she knelt down, and with a wave of her wand cleaned up the girls mess.

"Sorry." The girl mumbled to her feet.

"It's alright." Hermione breathed, flashing the girl a kind smile before she sat herself back on the bench beside Harry.

Harry and Ron had been discussing their Quidditch practice that night. Harry had yet to replace Katie Bell's spot as Chaser and had been pouring over his choices all morning. In fact, that was the reason she had spaced out initially. She couldn't stand when the boys got into deep conversation about Quidditch. The games were somewhat entertaining to watch but she never found herself truly engrossed in the many nuances of the sport.

As they walked down the sloping lawns towards the Herbology greenhouses the conversation turned to a true point of interest, however. Harry began to tell Ron and Hermione about his last lesson with Dumbledore and the haunting memory they had visited. Hermione was silent through it all. She found it hard to think of Tom Riddle as a child. He would always be the pale, thin shadow of a human that Harry had described to her a little over a year ago. As they approached the greenhouses and the students scattered about the entrance their conversation switched to the dreaded Slug Club Christmas party that Professor Slughorn had invited both Harry and Hermione to. Hermione had been attending the get togethers every few weeks alone since Harry conveniently scheduled Quidditch practice to get out of them.

Ron became his usually huffy self whenever the "Slug Club" came up because of his anger at not being invited. Hermione listened silently as he ranted and raved about the pompous professor as she formed a plan in her mind. She was going to invite Ron with her as a friend so he would stop being such a ridiculous ass whenever the subject of the parties came up. Like she planned, Ron finally shut up and went back to work with a calm face. She blushed a little when she asked him, an image of Draco's face popping for a moment into her brain as the words fell out of her mouth. What she really wanted was to ask him to the party, but as they both knew, that could never be. She spent the rest of the class in quiet unhappiness until the bell resounded over the grounds. As she walked back towards the castle she faintly heard Harry ask Dean to replace Katie as chaser for the Gryffindor team and the excited squeals that followed.

The rest of the day passed in a boring blur until the three walked into the Great Hall to eat dinner. Harry and Ron had to scarf down a meal before they headed off to Quidditch practice with Ginny and Dean. Hermione took her usual spot on the bench that faced the other end of the Hall and to her disappointment didn't see Draco in his usual seat. In fact, both Crabbe and Goyle were gone. Hermione attempted to ignore the growing feeling of insecurity in her stomach by listening to her friend light conversation beside her, but to no avail. As she waved to Harry, Ron, and Ginny at the front doors and began her ascent up the staircase her mind had already begun to imagine the worst. This continued until she reached the painting of the Fat Lady and whispered "Diligrout", crawling through the portrait hole and heading straight to her dorm room.

As she closed the door quietly behind her she finally heaved a sigh of discontentment at the ceiling. She stood that way with her back up against the door for a few minutes, attempting to gain her composure and settle her imagination down for a few minutes before getting up to walk over to her bed. When her eyes fell on her four-post she saw something that made her smile. The same tawny owl from a few weeks ago had perched itself on Hermione's covers and held a large, white envelope in its beak. She rushed across the room to the fowl, petting its beak for a moment before ripping into the letter.

The same careful script adorned the letter and simply said:

_Hermione-_

_I need you to meet me in the Room of Requirement. I asked it for a side door around the corner so you can slip in unseen. I'll tell you what happened once you get here. Just hurry._

_-Draco_

Hermione read the letter a second time before she jumped to her feet and ran back through the dormitory door. She slipped through the portrait hole unnoticed by the many studying withes and wizards that had huddled around the large fireplace in the center of the room and ran towards the seventh floor corridor. As she reached the corner before the stretch of hallway she saw the small door that had been conveniently hidden in the shadows. Before she entered she slowly peaked around the corner and stared into the empty corridor. In front of the entrance to the Room of Requirement she saw two small first year girls staring at the blank stretch of wall in front of them. With a furrow of her brow Hermione turned back towards the back door and quietly turned the knob.

***

Draco sat in a large armchair by the fire, his left leg shaking with nerves as he stared across the room at the small black door that he had put in the wall. He had sent Hermione the letter over twenty minutes ago and had been waiting in the chair ever since. With his hands clasped together at his mouth he stared at a small flower design on the carpet under his feet, the silence buzzing in his ears. Finally he heard the knob of the door turn slowly and he jumped up from the armchair as he saw Hermione's head peaked around at him. Once she saw him she fully entered the room and ran towards him. He scooped her up into a tight embrace, his nose buried in her soft curls.

"What's wrong?" she breathed into his shoulder. Draco held onto her for a few minutes before he pulled back and looked at her concerned face.

"This morning I got a letter from my mother. The gist of it was that I was to follow the instructions my father left for me to complete my….mission. It….well it has to do with something in this room." Hermione began looking around the room, squinting for anything that looked like it had to do with Dark magic. "No, not in this room. It's in the Room of Requirement……Crabbe and Goyle basically told me that they were here to make sure that I spent every free hour of my time in here. But, I thought of a plan."

"What?" Hermione asked, confused.

"The back door!" he answered incredulously. "Now we can spend time together! Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum will sit out there thinking that they're making sure I stay in here, working towards a ridiculous mission, when really, they're standing guard while we sit in here laughing at them!" he finished, his breath heavy with excitement in his plan. He watched as Hermione stared at him, then looked back at the thin little door at the opposite end of the room. Her eyes finally met his once more as a large grin spread across her face.

"You're brilliant!" she said as she jumped back into his arms, kissing his pale face. He released the breath he wasn't aware he was holding as kissed her lips passionately. Hermione's feet dangled above the floor as Draco held her tiny body in his arms and he swung her into the armchair he had been sitting on when she had come in. He set Hermione in his lap as their kisses grew more passionate. Draco's pale face flushed as heat spread throughout his body when Hermione's palms flattened against his chest. His heart rate increased and he grabbed chunks of her hair and interlaced his fingers through her curls. A tiny moan escaped her mouth and he felt her hot breath on his lips. It sent a shiver down his spine and he instinctively grabbed Hermione closer so that she was now pressed tight against his body. He began slipping her shirt off of her shoulders, and he felt her tiny fingers fumble with his shirt buttons. From the mantle above the large fire that crackled at the end of the room the clock chimed that it was 9 o'clock at night. Hermione's mouth pulled back from Draco's with a shocked look on her face.

"It's 9 already?" she shrieked. Hermione immediately jumped out of Draco's lap and began fixing her twisted clothing and smoothing down her hair. She bent over to retrieve her shoes that she had kicked off in the moment, sat back up and kissed Draco fleetingly on the cheek before she rushed out of the room.

"I'm sorry! They'll be getting back from Quidditch any minute. See you tomorrow!" and she was out the door.

Draco still sat in the chair, his hair sticking out at all ends and his tie loosened with a few buttons unbuttoned on his shirt. His breath was still heavy as he sat up and looked at the door she had just left. He slowly began to re-button his shirt, straighten his tie and smooth down his hair. His breath steadied and his thoughts returned to where they had been before Hermione had come. He hadn't really told her everything.

That morning his mother had sent him the directions for the Vanishing Cabinet. He had shoved it in his pocket to think about later in the day as he headed to his first class of the day. He was just about to round the corner in the second floor corridor when two gorilla sized hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him into a dark closet.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?!" Malfoy gasped into the grimacing faces of Crabbe and Goyle.

"Think you're the only one who got instructions in the mail this morning, huh?" Crabbe breathed as he shoved Malfoy up against the wall of the closet.

"What?"He gasped, confused.

"Do your job, go to the Room of Requirement. If you don't we will force you. Get. It?" He spoke slowly to him, as if he was a child. "We've done it before and we can do it again." With that, the two huge men exited the closet leaving Draco standing there wide-eyed at their departing figures. So it was Crabbe and Goyle who had Imperiused him. Not much of a surprise. How was he going to get out of this?

"How am I going to get out of this?" he mumbled to himself and he rested his head in his hands in the dark room.

***

Hermione sprinted back to the portrait of the Fat Lady and gasped the password, clutching at a stitch in her side. She climbed through and stood in a dark corner to catch her breath before she meandered over to the favorite armchairs of the group and sat down with an exhaled breath. She stared at the fire in the heart and thought back to the other fire, in another room and began smiling to herself. She was brought back to reality when she heard the portrait hole open and Dean rushed through, looking nervous as he sat himself in a chair near Hermione's.

"Dean, what's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"I-I uh, he caught. I mean, Ron caught—Well, Ginny and I were, heh, well we were kind, um, and Ron kind of saw us. Angriest I've ever seen him. He's going to kill me." He finished with a wide eyed stare at Hermione.

"Alright, then." Hermione replied, still confused. She and Dean remained by the fire a few minutes before both their heads snapped up as Ginny slammed the portrait hole shut, tears streaking her eyes.

"Ginny, what's wr--"

"Nothing. Ron's just being a prat, as always." She said as she calmly sat on the arm of Dean's chair, winding her fingers into his. Before Hermione could reply a seething Ron and a nervous looking Harry entered the common room. Ron neither looked at Hermione, or acknowledged her presence as he stomped up the staircase. Harry merely shrugged his shoulders and said, "G'night." His eyes lingered on Ginny and Dean as he headed towards the staircase to the boy's rooms.

"So, Hermione, what'd you do tonight?" Ginny asked, looking up from Dean's eyes.

"Oh, you know. Nothing special." Hermione answered a little too quickly. Ginny squinted her eyes briefly as Hermione avoided eye contact before she was reluctantly distracted by Dean's gaze.


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione awoke the next morning with slightly sore lips from her late night rendezvous with Draco. She smiled slightly in the early morning sunlight at the memory. She lifted her hand to her face and touched her fingertips to her lips trying to recreate the way his mouth felt on hers. She found it paled in comparison, so she let her hand rest at her side once more. From the window across the room she could see that the sky was clear and bright blue. Perfect for the Quidditch game after breakfast.

Hermione sat up in her bed and removed the warm covers from her bare legs. She yawned widely and grabbed for the pair of jeans and black pea coat that hung on the chair next to her bed. She dressed in silence wrapping her scarlet and gold scarf around her neck and pulling her mane of curls out from under. She quickly looked around in her drawer and found what she was looking for. A small, thin bracelet with green and silver beads that she planned to hide under her gloves. She smiled slightly and thought of what Harry and Ron would think if they knew she would be quietly cheering Draco on as well. With the thought of Draco still in her mind she began to walk down to breakfast.

When she arrived in the Great Hall she saw that most of the room was bedecked in scarlet and gold, but her eyes subtly scanned the small portion of the room in emerald and silver for the white blonde head of Draco Malfoy. Once again, his seat was empty, as were the seats of Crabbe and Goyle. Immediately she began to worry, the same tightness growing in the pit of her stomach as it had the night before. He was supposed to be playing Quidditch today. She bit her lip and walked slowly towards the Gryffindor table, her eyes resting on Ron. He had been in a spectacularly bad mood the last few weeks and she wasn't really in the mood to sit quietly and take it now that she was worried about Draco.

She took a seat beside across from Ron and Harry as they sat in tense silence. She began to ask how they were feeling when she saw the small bottle Harry was putting back in his robes as he handed Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. Her eyes narrowed as she realized what Harry had done. He had illegally given Ron Felix Felicis potion for luck in the game. After a short, very confusing spat between Harry and herself she stormed out of the Great Hall and over to the staircase. She had left breakfast early so she might have time to check the seventh floor corridor before the game started….

Hermione began to take the stairs two at a time as she bounded past the few stragglers who had slept late and wore looks of fear and confusion as she huffed past. Finally, she reached the corridor and she peered around the corner, but saw no Crabbe, and no Goyle. Her face fell in defeat as she leaned against the wall to catch her breath. She closed her eyes for a moment and repeatedly told herself that everything would be fine. He was only missing his Quidditch match and possibly being held prisoner by two very large, very evil cronies of his father. When she opened her eyes she turned her head to look out the window in the hallway. A mass of scarlet and gold was flooding towards the Quidditch pitch and she realized the game would be starting in less than ten minutes. She raced down the staircase and out the oak front doors with the last bits of crowd that held uneaten pieces of toast in their mouths as they attempted to finish breakfast.

The game was exciting, though Hermione sat wringing her hands together, nervous about what Harry had done. She also searched the stands periodically for the gleam off of Draco's hair, but saw nothing. She was so caught up in her search for the three Slytherins that she almost missed when Harry caught the Snitch right out from the Slytherin's replacement seeker. The crowd cheered and rushed the pitch, Hermione in tow, looking nervous, but smiling all the same. She saw Harry land with the rest of the Gryffindor house team as Ginny flew into the stands at Zacharias Smith who had regaled everyone with his snotty comments about the Gryffindor team for the whole match. Harry laughed and smiled at Ginny, and she distinctly saw the look on Harry's face when the small redhead hugged him. She smiled slightly, but remembered what she had to talk to him about. As the crowd cleared away and the team made its way to the locker rooms Hermione stationed herself outside, waiting until everyone else had left.

She slowly made her way to the locker room and watched as Dean walked out with his arm around Ginny with Demelza trailing behind.

"Hey, Hermione! Party in the common room!" Dean yelled over his shoulder as they walked up towards the castle.

"I'll see you there!" She called back. By that time she was sure that the locker room was clear except for Ron and Harry. She walked in and saw the two boys smiling and talking easily as the removed their scarlet robes.

After an awkwardly whispered exchange Harry revealed that he had only faked the drugging of Ron to give him confidence, but the conversation took a nasty turn when Ron thought she meant he could only win on the lucky potion. Ron stormed out of the locker room leaving Hermione and Harry in an awkward silence before Hermione stormed out after, frustrated at Ron's stupidity.

As she walked in silence through the empty corridors towards the seventh floor her mind wandered back to the Room of Requirement. Was he there? Did he wait to go there until after people had left for the match so no one would see him and Crabbe and Goyle? But wouldn't he have gotten a note to her telling her so she could join him? The more she thought the more worried she became and desperate to know what had happened until she was suddenly standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, the faint bass of the party pounding behind her in the common room.

She stepped through the portrait hole and began an attempt at walking to the stairs to the girl's dormitory. Ginny was wandering around the room smiling at everyone and laughing with Arnold the Pygmy Puff on her shoulder. Every once in a while Hermione noticed her glance at the portrait hole. Was she waiting for Harry? Hermione wondered. She mused a few theories in her head as she slowly made a path to the staircase but right as she took the first few steps she glanced over to the corner of the common room to see Ron in a tight embrace with Lavender Brown. Her stomach fell as she thought again on Draco's mysterious absence. Her eyes stung with tears as she whipped back through the crowd to the portrait hole. She needed to cry and the dormitory was currently a not very private atmosphere. She noticed Harry looking at Ron and then around the room, presumably for her, as she ran through he portrait hole. Once the door had closed she took a few deep breaths and began walking towards a hall of empty classrooms. She turned knobs until she found an unlocked door and rushed in letting her tears fall. Only when she heard Harry coming nearer and turning doorknobs did she conjure a flock of canaries to circle her head, hiding her red, blotchy skin.

Harry came in, quickly followed by Ron who looked obnoxiously happy as he held Lavender's hand. A new wave of anger hit Hermione as she watched the two together. She could never be that carefree and public with Draco, or kiss him at a party. Ron was ecstatically happy while Hermione was worried, miserable, and unable to tell anyone about it. She was, at this very moment, truly alone, and it infuriated her. She walked calmly by Ron out the door but just as she passed by his arm she set the flock of angry birds at his face. She then ran back down the hall with a smug smile on her face as Ron's girlish screams echoed through the empty corridor towards a certain seventh floor corridor. Even if he wasn't there she needed a place to think.

***

When Draco opened his eyes it was still pitch black, probably because his blinds were closed around him. He pulled them open about an inch and peered into his dormitory. Four dark humps lay in each bed breathing evenly all around him. Draco looked at his watch and saw that it was only about five in the morning. Only about 8 hours before he had held Hermione in his arms and he still smelled her fruity scent on his t-shirt that he hadn't changed out of. He wanted a repeat. He sat in the dark and thought about the day ahead of him. Today was the first Quidditch match of the season and it was between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Apparently Crabbe and Goyle told McGonagall the night before that Draco missed dinner because he was too sick, and wouldn't be playing in today's match for the same reason. So he had another day in the Room of Requirement to look forward to. Draco mused over what Hermione would do if he sent her a note to meet him in the room rather than going to the match. Maybe she wants to see the game, though, he thought. But, all the same, it doesn't hurt to try. He quietly swung his bare legs over the edge of his bed and began pulling pajama pants over his boxers and swung a black robe on and tied the belt. He grabbed a quill and some parchment from his drawer and made for the door of the dormitory, not noticing Goyle's open eyes watching him as he turned the knob and slipped out into the dark hallway.

He breathed in the cold, early morning air as he sprinted up to the Owlry. Once there he skidded over the owl droppings and straw to lean on the edge of one of the open windows to write a quick note to Hermione. Pulling out a small bottle of ink from his pocket, unscrewing it, and dipping his quill in the black ink carefully he began to write in his neat script,

_Dear Hermione,_

_You've been on my mind since you left me last night. Care for a repeat? I'll be in the Room of Requirement after everyone goes down to the game._

_Lo—_

Draco felt a heavy weight hit the side of his head and he came crashing down in the slick pile of bird droppings he had been standing on. Through blurry vision he could see Goyle, still in pajamas, looming over him holding the letter he'd just been writing, crumpling it in his large fist.

"THE MUDBLOOD?!" he screamed in anger as the owls that had just fallen asleep after a long night's hunt began to shriek in anger at the loud noise. "The mudblood?!" he repeated in an angry whisper looking at Draco with a mix of pure anger and awe on his face. He trembled in fury, staring at Draco and waiting for an answer.

"DON'T CALL HER THAT!" he screamed weakly at Goyle. He attempted to get up, intending to punch Goyle back, but was shoved down once again by his large foot.

"Please tell me this is some sort of sick joke I'm not in one!" he screeched throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation."Well?"he demanded.

"It's not a joke. I—I love her." He said meekly.

"I really wish you hadn't said that." Goyle whispered as he pulled back his leg and began kicking him in the Torso. Draco felt all the air leave his body and couldn't breathe. He felt his feet collide with all of his limbs as he lay on the ground writhing in pain. For a moment Goyle paused, but only to grab Draco's shoulders and force him to his feet so he could hit him in the face. Warm blood began to pool in Draco's mouth as Goyle's punches hit his jaw, and the pain enveloped his whole body. His head hung limply at his neck and he began to sway on the spot. Goyle pulled back and hit him one last time square in the face and Draco finally fell. His eyes stayed open for a moment watching Goyle's feet pace angrily in front of him until his vision went white and he felt consciousness leave him.

When Draco awoke he was back in his bed. His face felt hot because of all the bloods that seemed to be rushing there. He raised his hand and gently tapped the skin that covered his left cheekbone. He winced as a flood of pain filled his face. Distantly he heard the cheers from the Quidditch match and he wondered if Hermione noticed he was gone. He sat silently for twenty minutes listening to the swell of the crowd and then a rousing chorus of "Weasley Is Our King". By the lyrics it sounded as though Gryffindor had won. He sighed in defeat at this horrible day and stared at the curtains that surrounded his bed. After about ten minutes or so he began to drift off to sleep but was pulled back into consciousness when his curtains were ripped open.

Crabbe and Goyle began to pick Draco up so he was standing on his feet. The soreness in his bones erupted into full out pain as he attempted to hold his own weight. "What are you doing?!" he moaned angrily. "Haven't you done enough already?"

"Room of Requirement." Crabbe reminded him, and they both took one of Draco's arms and slung it over their shoulders as they walked out of the dorm. "Urquhart's giving the team an angry rant and all the other Slytherins are in the Great Hall so we won't be seen."

Draco nodded slightly as he hung limply in their arms. He closed his eyes and thought of the only thing that gave him some solace. Hermione.


End file.
